My Mental History.

You know, I used to think I could hide things from them. Them being whoever the protagonist in my life was at that moment. So I'd go to great lengths to do that, ridiculous lengths even sometimes. And that led to all kinds of problems. It led to my inability to function well and to be in public. But I thought overcompensating and overanalyzing was the way to solve the problem. I had to find a way. And I figured knowing that they knew my methods, they would alter them. But when they found out my newest approach that would always change. And then knowing that they knew that I knew that they knew, they would return to they usual pattern. But that was all ridiculous. I am the kind of who has to solve every problem. But no one could ever do that. And someone, I still don't know who, wanted me to get that way. Actually there is nothing they, whoever are or ever were, wouldn't already know. (And I'm speaking generally about everyone in life. I'm not being paranoid here.) But that rule doesn't apply to everyone in my life. Or the world really. It is in my best interest to get as much information out about my life, and keep as many people as possible informed about all of that. And someone doesn't want me to do that. Or doesn't like it when I do that in any event.

As much information to as many people. It has kept me safe and well all these years.

 

Like I said, I never really moved on from those three things. Being mentally abused for being ugly starting as an 11 year old kid, losing my mother and being told I'd be locked away in prison very soon, and then abused there for many years. For over 20 years they did that last one, even at that latest place recently. And now this. Never knowing my legal status, never knowing my rights, never knowing what people are planning and doing behind my back. That will never end, never. And I'll never know when it has ended. How would I? And what kind of court would do that to someone like they did? Never help him in the slightest way even when he begged. And just continue to tease and taunt him long after that, and even now. They're not even supposed to do that to criminals. And like I've said, I've never even spent the night in jail. And now I am permanently damaged requiring lifelong care. My lifespan has probably been shortened too. And as far as I know no one cares and nothing is being done. And if they suddenly told me that problem was being corrected, why should I believe them? Especially after all I just said.

The one thing I can do though is hold all the people accountable who abused me. Abused me to the point of considering suicide many times. And abused me as a little handicapped child. That I can do and that I can spend the rest of my life doing, shorter though it may be. Hold them accountable legally in whatever way I can. And expose them. Expose all of them and everyone who took part of all of that in any way so the world know what kind of people they really are.

 

Also I'd like the issue of my physical appearance resolved some day perhaps. One doctor told me a year or two ago "you are NOT deformed". But around that time my legal guardian seemed to say by his reaction to that subject maybe there is something to that. But I don't know, and I don't know what that is all about. My head is on average much larger than normal. And it seems to grow over my shoulders when I look at myself in mirrors in public, even when I am not standing next to someone. I've also noticed my head might be a little misshapen, especially when viewed from certain angles. I'm still trying to figure out why I can't see what I look like to others in mirrors. As I said, someone online called that eumorphia. Eumorphia. Is there a genetic malady that has that as its symptom? Anyone here know? Because someone online once told me that I have all the classic signs of a genetic disease, not just lack of oxygen at birth.

I just know someone in my life noticed that I had eumorphia around age 10. And then they made it their mission to make me accept the fact I was ugly. Which I think is the very definition of abuse of a child. Am I wrong? But the fact they called me ugly is reassuring. You don't called deformed people ugly. That would be too cruel, most people would agree. And the lady who once worked for me implied that perhaps I was born with a deformity, but outgrew it later. As I said, I just would like to know. Because I have wondered about this for many years now.

And there are some plastic surgeries that could help me. I could never afford them with my insurance I guess. But I know. Starting at age 11 I thought, they could never do a head reduction on me. That's not true. They can reduce the size of your head. Or, they can fix your facial features to make your head look smaller in someway. Of course starting at age 11 I realized. I would have to first know what is wrong with me and how I look to others before I could have it fixed.

 

But like I said, it's almost like fate or something, or maybe even God, spared my life sometimes. Almost by divine intervention, like the song says. I almost shot my mother with that gun I thought was a toy at my grandfathers that time. But a strange unexpected feeling came over me. And so I didn't. My thoughts of suicide could have led to that in the Summer of 1983. But then I came up with that wild plan to fix my DNA in utero instead. Like the song says. There were many times suicide could have made my life end tragically. Many other ways I know of that could have. And I'm sure many more ways I'm not even aware of. Fate intervened so I could remain here on earth. For many reasons I'm sure. Including making sure all the people who hurt me as a handicapped child and violated my rights are held accountable. And I will.

 

There is another thing I've seen in my case. The practice of humiliating mentally ill, and perhaps other handicapped people, in public. To get their compliance sometimes, I guess. I know they did it to a very sick uncle I had once when he wouldn't shut up about this topic. He basically kept saying he didn't do some terrible deed the family all knew he did. And he knew we knew all about that. But he kept insisting, insisting that we let him say that to others. So his son humiliated him in public at a restaurant one Sunday. Making a big scene and chastising him in public for this horrible deed, and a lot of other things too. The other customers were looking around I still remember with worry and fear. (And he was just back to his old tricks two weeks later anyways.) I thought at first that was just an accident, my cousin doing that. But our probate lawyer's reaction at the time made it clear, and I figured out years later, it was not. That is a practice, humiliating people with mental and emotional issues in a public place. To get their compliance sometimes perhaps, like I said. But it's dangerous to the patient, and disruptive too. It was never necessary for me, because I don't have behavioral issues. But they still did it to me occassionally. They accused me of serious crime in that drug store in 2011. And everyone in my life knows now that wasn't even true. But what did the people in that store believe? And who did they tell? We'll just never know. They did other things and made other scenes with me in public. People must have noticed that men sometimes notice I was checking them out. I wondered how the men could tell that. Many times I wasn't even looking in their direction. Someone obviously put them up to it. But what did other people in public think when they saw that? Because they must have seen something. Especially since it has been going on at least since 1983, when it first happened in one of my doctors' offices. Or in the 8th grade with that other boy, perhaps. When he knew I was thinking about him, even though I never even looked in his direction. But he or his father complained that they wanted me to stop thinking about him. That's what really happened there isn't it? And then that nonsense continued for years. People have done other weird things in public that onlookers couldn't help but notice. Like with that man on the witness stand in the Fall of 1981. Yes, that could have been just coincidence. But I don't think it was. And I am usually right about these things. And because of some of those things now for me, I will always be in danger. I think that practice should end, and I want to end right now. It endangers safety, it endangers lives. If nothing else it violates patient privacy and HIPAA laws. Which is odd. The HIPAA violations. HIPAA was passed in 1996, and yet they were still doing all that stuff to me. Certainly in 2011, and in many other places I have mentioned. Also I was wondering. What my former psychiatrist had to do with any of this. He never abused me or did anything reckless to me that I know of. But I don't know what he was doing behind my back. And I always thought he was a very unprofessional, unethical doctor. With a very poor attitude towards the mentally ill too.

But like I said, it seems like what was done to me was a clear violation of HIPAA, or so that is what I was always told. And for me none of that was ever even necessary as I've said. But that's what's odd. Why would I seem to be protected by HIPAA and yet all those things could happen? Something about that seems odd. Part of some deception, like I said. But one that was never necessary with me. And one that will have my life endangered till the day I die.

But the main problem in Michigan where I live is the secrecy of it all. It's used with mentally ill in many ways that I have already gone into. And it endangers lives and was never necessary with me, like I've said. So I think the secrecy with the mentally ill should all end. It's unnecessary and it's dangerous. Doesn't everyone here agree with me?

 

“The more you proclaim your ignorance, the more you try to mislead me, the more I am on to you. Your every silence speaks volumes.”

Star Trek: The Next Generation,
Stardate: 42486.3.

 

And the people who have been abusing me since I was a child. I think it began long before age 11. My parents and family never abused me. But other people have, as I have been explaining here for the past couple of years. Other adults have. They are the ones really responsible. Responsible for the fact that my life is forever shortened by those medicines I should have never been taking. I was taking them for plastic gloves that could lead to infection and death, was the explanation. It obviously was never for that reason. But whatever the reason was, I could have refused to take those medicines long ago. And most people would have at that point. But never did, and now I am damaged for life. Type 2 Diabetes can never be reversed. And the damage to my feet is irreversible too. And my hands, especially my right one, are clearly affected too. My poor body, already weakened with Cerebral Palsy, is permanently damaged and my lifespan is forever shortened.

And there's a real chance I could lose the car, if I lost both hands too. Hand pedals would be an option without feet. But how would I drive with no hands, or even just one? My independence, my safety and my power over my life was what the car issue was always about right from the start, right from 2005. Or around 1995, when people started claiming I looked too mentally handicapped to drive and questioning it, even though I had a valid license. And I've already explained why I could never let them put me in even a group home. I'd be forever at their mercy and lose all control of my life that way. But that is what they always wanted isn't it? For me to lose my car, even though I am an excellent driver.

And what kind of quality of life would I have wheeling myself around my house in a wheelchair some day? A wheelchair ramp could be installed on my porch. But my doorways and hallways are very narrow. It's not a very large house. And it is cluttered. That's just my way of organizing things. And no one is helping me clean now anyways. My legal guardian claims it was costing him too much. And now he's claiming he doesn't even have that much money to begin with, even though he lives in a rich suburb. I have no one to help me, very few funds in the trust to begin with. And if I was late for appointments before, can you imagine what it will be like if I am wheeling myself around house in a wheelchair? And scooting my butt up and down my two stairways? And taking care of my two cats? And what about shopping. How do you shop in a wheelchair? How do you shop with no hands? I honestly don't know. But something has been going on with my feet for the past couple of months. I don't know what, because my A1C is supposedly 5.4, and my diabetes and neuropathy don't exist anymore. Even though I've had both since that hair loss on my legs, which was at least 10 years ago. Or long before I knew of the diabetes and neuropathy in any event. When my doctor told me the hair loss was nothing. First he said he didn't see it, and then he said it was nothing and perfectly normal.

And I guess I'll have to spend the rest of my life fighting this hopeless legal battle. I'd rather enjoy some quality of life instead. But that will never be possible. All while people continue to deny the problem even exists. And spend my life making sure all the people who abused me as a child and an adult are held accountable or at least exposed, so the public knows. But that won't be easy. Because I am denied all access to legal system now. Not that I could afford a lawyer anyways. Unless my legal guardian would pay for one.

And I still cling onto the hope something is being done. I assume even though they are all still lying to me, something is still being done. But why would I believe that? And what proof do I have of that? I do know clearly no one seems to care. And no one wants to help me and no one feels in anyway responsible for what they did to me. That last one at least is obvious.

 

Like I said, the next step for me is to find a notary public and send that letter back to that man. But why exactly am I working like this? To correct others' mistakes? All while being ignored and teased and taunted. It seems to me that what I really deserve now is a good quality of life. Instead of just more abuse. Which like I said, is what this really is just more of.

Since I was a child, that long list of people abused me horribly. Made me feel as a child I was too ugly to even beg. Made me feel as an adult I was going to be in unbearable pain soon that never ended. And people ask me still, why do I submit that as my case? Because that shows a clear pattern of abuse. And the that court allowed that, and were even part of all that. At the courthouse in 1981. That could have all ended tragically with my death, by suicide. But fate intervened and it didn't. And that's so I could have all those people held responsible. Responsible for what they did to me, and what they did to me as a little boy. Because as the very least the public has the right to know that they are capable of such things.

And that list also include things like police, judges and first responders. And they didn't just rob me forever of that time in my life, the also damaged me permanently. With diabetes and neuropathy and by endangering my life. With those two horrible, and untrue, things they told my neighbors. Things that can never be taken back and will endanger my life for as long as I live. But they don't care. That court is still teasing and taunting me. And the police and first responders were still tying to take away my care. For over 20 years and as late as 2013. Even though I am a very good driver and did absolutely nothing wrong. All while all kinds of horrible abuse and crime was going around me. And all while they knew of the damage they already did to my body, along with the abuse they did to me as a handicapped child.

Well I think the world has a right to know. And since they clearly don't care, any of them really, I think the time has come. For at the very least for people to find out what kind of people they really are.

 

Like I said this is my claim now. That these people who treated me this way, view and treat me differently. I may even have less worth in their eyes. All of these people. Including people like police and first responders with the car issue. They were telling me for 20 years that they knew I was a good driver. And they also knew what it would do to my life if I lost my car. Take away my independence and put me in danger. But they would just feel better if I didn't have a car. But the law is clear. I had a valid license and insurance, and I had a good driving record. I had every right to drive. The law is clear on who can drive in Michigan. And who can't. People with horrible driving records and suspended licenses can't drive. And people with absolutely no insurance. Like over half of the people in Detroit, for example. Where I was living, while all of this was going on. And this is a pattern of bias and unequal treatment goes back to when I was a child. When I was being abused then, by all these same people. And as I said, and this was obvious from the start, the car thing was just another form of abuse. Because it was a threat. Not having a car would put me in great danger too. Especially with the fact those two terrible untrue things were told to the people in my neighborhood, and I was unable to defend myself like a normal person with my Cerebral Palsy. Something which people in my life knew since I was a very young child. And yet they still did all these things to me. Endangered me and abused me like this.

And this has been going on since I was a child, I think it is time to expose all of that. Especially if they still doing it and were planning on doing it well into my old age.

 

As I said, all of the things that were happening to me including the recent ones were a form of abuse. Abuse that has gone back to my childhood. I have been sharing all the things that have been happening to me since I was a child here. And I think you can see, none if it even makes sense. How people going back to grade school could know things about me that they couldn't possibly know for example. I only found out in 2011 that the lady psychiatrist I saw at age 7 did think I had mental problems. She just didn't tell me that. So until 2011, many of the things in my life were going on behind my back. That's been proven and explained with what I was told in 2011. And I was deliberately abused too, and many people were taking part in it. Including people like the police and paramedics. I don't the details, but I guess they knew or thought they knew something about my mental history. I didn't even know I had a legal guardian until a year or two ago. So there clearly is a lot in my life that is hidden from me. But people seem to have some misconceptions about me. If they want to do things like take away my car. Or if the police in that one city thought they had to follow around and harass me. Even though I've never been in trouble with the law once.

But this is a was always meant to be abuse, whatever anyone would call it. Like when I was a child, and everyone tried to force me to accept I was ugly. Because I refused to, and so they abused me that way until I lost the will to live because of that several times. I don't know exactly what that was all about. But a lot of people took part in it. And I think they should at least be exposed to the publc. Because that could have led to tragedy. I might have actually killed myself at a couple of points in my life. And when people like the police and first responders were trying to take away my driver's license, they knew what they were doing was wrong. Maybe they weren't all doing it for the same reason. I don't know what that was all about yet. But it was illegal and wrong what they were doing to me, and they need to be held accountable. Even if they were just following the crowd. Because like I told a doctor recently, that's called the Nurember defense. And I don't buy it. And we need changes in Michigan where I live that protects handicapped people driving. And in other ways, like in the legal system. Like I have already said here, just common sense reforms would be enough.

 

Another thing too. All my doctors are lying to me. My A1C was 5.4 in December. Which like I said, I find hard to believe. And I don't have neuropathy in my feet anymore, even though I obviously do. And it might even be getting worse. Lying to a patient is never the right thing to do. And it's not only wrong, it's dangerous. If I knew that I had diabetes and neuropathy, at least 10-15 years ago now, I could have made changes then. Like dietary changes then and other things. I could probably have taken antidiabetes medicines like Metformin earlier too. But they said I was the picture of health. Maybe the fiber therapy I was taken then was helping me, they said. But I wasn't the picture of health. I'm permanently damaged now. And I could lose everything now if I lost my feet and hands, or even worse something like my sight.

And I had many symptoms of Cerebral Palsy early on. I was complaining about frequent urination since at least age 9. One man recently told me I probably had it even before then. And I finally went my doctor for it at age 13, when my teachers noticed I kept taking bathroom breaks. And I was complaining about double vision since at least age 18. Like I said, that one doctor tried putting prism in my glasses. But when that didn't work he added more and more. Until one time laying in bed my eyes were going haywire because there was so much prism in my glasses. So then he took most of it out. But as I was complaining the prism in my glasses wasn't helping he started acting more and more silly. At least one time waltzing into the room that way. This was in 1989 or 90. It's not right to lie to patient for any reason. And it could even be dangerous sometimes.

I need all my medical consent restored to me. Along with my access to the legal system. But I don't even know when I lost both. Still no one will tell me and as far as I know nothing is being done. And if it seems nothing is being done, maybe that is what is really happening here.

 

And as I said, drinking is an important part of my life. It's the whole experience that I like. The taste, and even the glass I drink it in, are all very important to me. And I have a very expensive liquor collection. I probably have a couple of single malt scotches left, and even the Chivas Regals I have a rather expensive. Plus I have gotten interested over the years in other expensive liquor types, like rums and other liqueurs. Everyone in my life knows I like Absinthe. The cheapest bottle of that where I live is $50. I once bought one for $75. It's high in alcohol. But it's very unique, and so I usually just put a couple of drops in my martini. It tastes terrible. But I don't drink it for the taste, I drink it for the experience. The history and culture associated with it too.

And throwing away my large liquor collection would be very wasteful and expensive too. I know my legal guardian threw out most of my liquor when my father died in 2011 and told me to just hold onto just what I needed. Which never made any sense, why he even did that. As I told him then, many of those bottles were still good. Saying now that's what I should do just doesn't make any sense. I was told when I found I had Type 2 Diabetes that one large sweet, like a sundae or slice of cake, a year would be all right. That's the last I heard on that. And like I've said, even one candy bar makes my feet ache now. Alcohol doesn't make my feet ache. Not even if I have two drinks. It doesn't seem to have any effect at all.

Like I told my therapist just now, if they told me one drink a year I would accept that as an answer. Along with a clear explanation why. But not a total ban on alcohol, so suddenly, and when I supposedly don't even have those problems anymore. It makes no sense as I said.

 

Plus I do know I have a tendency to repeat myself. I really can't help it though. I had to do with how I organize my thoughts. And my attention to detail too. Plus I sometimes miss subtle social cues. So I don't know people get my point, or fully understand it. I've had that last problem all my life. Plus you understand, I really don't have the time to do a Search of all the things I've already posted here. Especially thru the years. And I don't know if some people are just reading this one post of the first time.

So I tend to repeat sometimes. It's just my writing style. I'm not really concerned about my writing style though. I think giving out information completely and accurately is much more important.

 

I just talked with my doctor's office. And the receptionist said that doctor just walked by her and told her (even though I didn't hear their voice at all on the phone) that one fluid once of "alcohol" a month would be all right. And like I told her, I'll probably follow that advice.

She had me confused though. One ounce of liquor and one ounce of wine are very different. (And I forgot to even bring up the subject of beers.) They have very different amounts of alcohol. And I told her if I make martinis or manhattans now, I will just add one half fluid ounce, one half, of vermouth. And she said then I'd be adding more alcohol and going against that doctor's advice. I explained to her that's not true. One half an ounce of vermouth really basically doesn't have any alcohol in it at all. It's just for flavoring at that point. Plus a half an ounce of wine? And like I said, I think she also meant beer. Which I forgot to ask her about. (Because I could easily calculate what amount of beer would have that same amount. And an ounce of beer, or two tablespoons, wouldn't really make any sense. And I forgot to tell her like I said that I do sometimes have beer.)

But I guess that is where that doctor's advice stands now, and the receptionist seemed to say they probably won't change it. I'll serious consider that advice. But I think I'll probably take it, because I usually do take my doctors' advice in the end. But her advice still has me a little confused now. Maybe the receptionist didn't understand. (Because she seemed to say that doctor was still standing there.) Why would anyone drink just two tablespoons of beer?

 

Like I said there's a lot of secrecy in my case and in the mental health system in Michigan and in the mental health system in the US. Maybe even in the world. There seems to have been some secret program to have children play with other children who find it hard to make friends. The lady who used to work for me was telling me all about that. The same thing seemed to be happening in my neighborhood. And I know that sounds weird. But I already knew about it as a child. That's actually part of the reason why my best friend started avoiding me. When he found out I knew he was being forced to play with me that was just too weird for him. (Like I said the finaly straw for him had to do with that one time and my love of variations on a theme.) Then he started that very dark chapter in my life by making me think I was too ugly to even beg. That day during recess on the playground that ended with me cowering against the wall while he and the others taunted and tormented me. I also don't know how a random witness and a judge could be involved in all of this. It makes absolutely no sense I agree. But I saw it. And the other spectators in the court could tell something was wrong. Court records from that day probably still exist. Also the car thing seems to have begun in 1995. At a strip mall about one and half miles north of my house in a bizarre incident I was telling my therapist about. Then people started telling me I looked too mentally handicapped to be driving, and they wondered how I could have gotten a license. Like I said that hospital started that mentally handicapped thing in 1989, after the psychologically abused me for over a year. And almost drove me to suicide, when I first started seriously contemplating and trying ways out, the night of July 6, 1988, when that all began. I've always been open-minded, and I support things like assisted suicide now. But before July 6th I was morally opposed to the idea of suicide.But not after, thanks to them.

But like I was just telling my therapist, this lack of accountability is leading to terrible harm. How many stories like mine have ended tragically? How many have ended in someone being killed even? We may never know, because of the secrecy. Not anymore. I am going to expose it. Because like that song says, now is the time.

 

I just got a weird call from a lady at the Michigan Department of Health & Human Services adult protective services. She said she got a tip, but she couldn't reveal the source. (Oh, I've heard that before. I have no right to privacy, but everyone else in my situation does.) That I need a welfare check and that they'll come knocking at my front door in the next 72 hours. It was today at 4:46 PM according to the clock on my PC. The caller ID said "MI DHHS" and the phone number. I already suspect the worst. And I'm not being irrational. That's what mental health has been to me throughout my life with absolutely no exception,none. Oh. Except they tell me they don't want me to have suicidal ideation. Even though they are the ones who caused that starting in the 6th grade. Or a suicide attempt, which doctor and that hospital caused July 6, 1988 and July 8, 1989 and September 1989. (July 6, 1988 led me to realize suicide is the only option when you're facing a lifetime of unbearable pain. But I'm glad they showed me that. Because I am wiser for knowing it.)

Anyways, I did believe around April 2004 that if there was a knock at the door by anyone from the state of Michigan it would be to take me away some place for life. (Which is what I was supposed to believe according to that hospital and that long list of people. And that local business more recently. I mean that is what I am supposed to believe. I know a relative told me recently that I don't have to worry about being locked away on made up or trumped charges. But the threat of abuse and unending akathisia pain in a mental hospital still applies, doesn't it?)

But they haven't heard the last of this. I still want all responsible for this nonsense starting at childhood. And it's nonsense, because there is no change in my status at all. I want them held accountable, or at least exposed. Starting with that grade school and my alleged best friend there. (Or actually that teacher there October, 1975 might have been the first confirmed case of abuse there.) And exposed, the person who filed a bogus adult protective services just now. I do already suspect my legal guardian. Probably once again to manipulate the situation to his advantage. I am going to record this time and date. I think I'll put it on my walls. And maybe carry it with me at all times too, just in case.

I was going to say on that point above, about being locked away and abused. After 2004, maybe 2005 or 6 I want to say, the police came to our door and walked into my room. They were nice and didn't seem to know about all rest of the stuff that was going on in my life. (I now realize they obviously knew. Also I think someone might have been lying about me then.) But they said my father said I was danger to others. Because I was arguing in the car he was driving while it was raining outside. And, he claimed in court, I might have caused an accident that way. (My therapist now claims there is a lot more to that event too.)

Also from what I understand, people in my life might be saying starting in 1992 I have Assisted Suicide Disease. (That was the point of that trial I think. The sick "infection and death" joke and my understanding they were making sure I could never own a gun again in case they ever drove me to suicide again.) I read about that disease in a psychology textbook at the community college bookstore in 1994. It's a new disease and it's just been discovered, they said. It happens when people are terminally ill or don't want to live the rest of their lives in unbearable pain. As with any mental condition, force might be required to deal with it. No, I don't have Assisted Suicide Disease. I believe, like most Americans now, that suicide is justified if the illness is terminal, the pain is unbearable and there is no chance of any quality of life. You know. Like people have been telling me since the 6th grade? No, I don't feel that way now. But if I ever do it will be because the people in my life drove me to that point. And then once they drove me to that point, they didn't reassure me about what they drove me to. Like at that hospital, when I told them I did nothing illegal or wrong. And I asked for their reassurance, numerous times. But instead of giving me that, they instead asked me "So what did you do?" and put me in that bizarre group therapy session where we were supposed to tell our deepest, darkest secrets.

But anyways. Someone suddenly coming to my door for no legitimate reason, and the fact the secrecy is part of that again, makes me think they might be coming to take me away somewhere. That is what I was supposed to believe starting before age 18. Wasn't I? So I have that to deal with that for now.

 

And really there were many times in my life when I probably should have had a welfare check. And maybe even needed it. Like in 2004 when the hospital sent me home after telling me they thought I was up to something and would find a way to arrest me soon. Fortunately nothing tragic happened of that. But they knew what they were doing, all the people in the psych ward knew they were driving me to desperation. I mean that was the point of all of that, wasn't it? To drive me to desperation instead of help me. But they knew that back then and they still never bothered to check up on me to show any interest in my wellbeing. And now suddenly, really for no reason whatsoever they want to do a welfare check? Now suddenly they do?

No. I'm not playing that game ever again. People in my life drove me to think suicide was the only option, they deliberately abused me and they all knew what they were doing and that it was wrong. So I am not playing along with that anymore. What we need is more accountability and for the people in my life to be exposed for what they did, and for what kind of people they are. And if this their response to that, maybe I need to step up my efforts in that regard. When the one time I'm feeling fine but they might get in trouble, and then suddenly this happens. Not if I can help it by not playing along this time it won't.

 

Like I said this has gone far enough. And no, I will not accept the abuse with good humor. I don't know why I would be expected to. Everyone in my life started tormenting me and calling me ugly that day on the playground in the 6th grade to teach me a moral lesson. I fat-shamed this other boy. Well, he was morbidly obese and he did need to lose weight. And my punishment was that my alleged best friend and another boy torment me until I was cowering by the wall crying hysterically with my stocking cap over my face. But like I thought immediately, he needed to lose weight and he could have. Really in some way it was his fault, if only for not doing enough about it. I would always be ugly and I could never control it. And there was nothing I could do about it because, I thought at the time, there was no plastic surgery that could reduce the size of your head. And there was no way to hide it. Covering my face with bandages and telling everyone I was a burn victim wouldn't work because the Halloweens of 1980 and 81 I discovered in my other friend's neighborhood that no mask could hide it. I couldn't even get a job as a telemarketer because people could tell I was ugly on the phone. Even the blind could tell I was ugly. And now as a final insult, after taking part in all of that abuse which could have lead to my death by doing at their own courthouse in 1981, that court continues to show how little I mean to them by teasing and taunting me and refusing to help me. And they permanently damaged me but really don't care. Even men who have raped children have the right not to be harmed with chemical castration therapy. Meaning I have even less value and worth to them than even the lowest criminal. And I have never even done anything wrong. And first they start abusing me by telling me I would face a fate, now even worse than a lifetime of akathisia, starting 1989. And then cleverly working up to other things they think will look innocent like taking away my car. Which really is just a clever way of doing something to me which further endangers my safety and my life too. All while saying that they are concerned about my welfare and don't want me to harm myself. If they want me to stop thinking suicide might be an option why don't they just stop threatening me like that. Like in 1843 when the novel A Christmas Carol was written. There was a strong moral and legal prohibition against suicide then. Back then suicide was punishable by death. (And like a writer at the time pointed out, where's the deterrent in that?) But Dickens pointed out that choosing death over a lifetime of pain and hardship doesn't make evil, or even sick. It makes you all to human. And that is one of the reasons why they are making reckless decisions behind my back and have permanently damaged me? Which is what I led to believe they meant in 1992 when they said "infection and death" and made sure I could never own a gun again. Because just like that doctor said in 1989 after he drove me to attempt suicide. I was morally weak for caving into his abuse. And since he was going to continue to abuse me and therefore I might someday attempt suicide again. No.

We are going to start at the beginning. That court is going to be held accountable or at least exposed for what they did to me in their courthouse in 1981. I'm sorry if I am exposing their little secret. But that is the problem with secrets. They are used to hide horrible deeds. And like Shakespeare pointed out, foul deeds will always someday rise anyways. And I don't care what everyone's reason was for trying to take away my car. I was a very good driver with good insurance while all kinds of lawlessness and abuse was going on in my very neighborhood and most people in Detroit don't even have insurance. That shows a pattern of abuse and that does show bias towards and handicapped and mentally ill person. Bias in the law is defined as being treated unequally in similar situations. Not just making the claim that you were just technically following the rules, like Shylock tried. And saying you were just following the crowd or even following rules when you knew how wrong they were, because everyone knew that my life would be in danger without a car. That's called the Nuremberg defense. And I don't buy it. By then everyone knew at least two horrible and untrue things had already been said behind my back. So I want all the people who took part in that held accountable, or at least exposed, again. That court took part in a program that destroyed a little boy's life and almost drove him to suicide, all for fat-shaming another boy, who did need to lose weight. It makes no sense to me either. But truth is stranger than fiction, especially in my life. And all those police and first responders took part in a program to keep that same little handicapped boy, but now a fully grown handicapped man, in a constant state of suicidal panic by finding new and creative ways to threaten him with pain and violence. Each one more clever than the last when he found out that they probably weren't going to happen.

And as I said, the threat of unending akathisia pain might still apply. My other relative never told me it didn't. And now suddenly and for no apparent reason the state of Michigan wants to check up on me to help me. I will have to assume this is a new form of abuse. Because that is usually how they begin. Someone claims they are trying to help me, just before they severely hurt me. And always start by doing it out of the blue, like with the car thing, and never giving a reason why too.

 

Also something weird, or at least a little weird, happened at a doctor's office recently. I was telling him how it is hard for me to wipe myself. Obviously due to my Cerebral Palsy. I've been talking about this since I was a child. And another doctor clearly noticed in 1985 when I had to remove a wad of toilet paper I have to stick up there. Which I had already told people about by then. But I was telling that doctor above about wiping myself. And he paused and said don't stick it up there too far. That is what I have to do now at home to fully clean myself. And that other doctor pointed out not fully cleaning myself could lead to infection, but he thought I was handling it well. But it's almost like that first doctor knew what I was doing in my bathroom at home. Because I rarely do that in public restrooms. Or he just could have been aware of my problems now. You know my lack of sensitivity due to Cerebral Palsy has been slowly getting worse in that area too, in my pants. Both sides really. And I have been complaining about that for years. Like when I told one doctor years ago it was getting harder for me to know if I had a slight accident on myself. It's nothing major yet. But things are changing with me since that court and my legal guardian permanently damaged me with those medicines. I don't even know what lies down the road. I just know I must always have a car. It is necessary for my independence, medical consent and safety. That last one now that my life is in danger. I know when the police and first responders were trying to take away my car, they never me how I would get to my doctors in Plymouth, Westland, Troy and Novi. But they told me they thought I could handle it. Which is ridiculous. They thought I couldn't tie my own shoes or read? But they thought I could handle THAT? That is why I think all the people responsible for that should make sure I always have a car. I could drive with no feet someday. But what if I lost my hand or hands? They are clearly affected, even though my doctors haven't said anything about that.

 

Something recent just happened. Basically a doctor just told me he doesn't want to hear my complaints anymore because there's no case and nothing he can do. I don't understand. I'm denied all access to the legal system. What am supposed to do when people violate my rights? And another weird thing. I knew by July 6, 1988, if not long before, that filing a patient's rights complaint with the state of Michigan against that hospital would go nowhere. Because like most of the people by then who abused me, they planned well in advance. A patient's rights complaint would just lead to more mockery, and abuse. And I didn't want to give them the satisfaction. And I'm still glad I didn't. But um, why am I blocked from even filing a patient's rights abuse claim? That shouldn't even be possible. And no one else in Michigan is aware of that. Unless I'm the only one. I guess for me this matter will have to enter a criminal phase now. But the statute of limitations has run out for most of it. And all people in government have full immunity, as long it as it is "under color of law" as my law dictionary says. And plus I have no criminal case either people tell me. And what can I do? There's barely enough hours in the day for me maintain my hygiene. I do need a little help with all this. But I'm getting none, because supposedly my case doesn't even exist. Plus I want to do so much more here. Expose all the people who abused me since I was a little handicapped child just trying to live his life, while they all almost drove me to suicide. Till fate stepped in. How do I do that? I'm still looking for a cheap notary public you know. And no one anywhere seems to care. Although some people think someone like me with limited mobility can somehow do all the above things without a car. Walking from bus stop to bus stop for buses that never come. And taking transfers and transfers. With my neuropathic feet and the arthritis in my knees too.

And I live in Detroit. My case is actually probably one of the better ones in Detroit, if it's typical. Not that I or anyone would know. What about mentally ill and mentally handicapped, and other vulnerable groups, who are abused? When they go to the authorities, do they get the same runaround? I know I've heard people say that often happens. But is somehow official and secretly planned out? While cases end far more tragically than others? Like I said, I'll have to use my limited time left on earth exposing all of this. Songs sometimes help me to remember, like I said.